Be careful, Mr. Potter. You can't fight this war alone.
Rufus Scrimgeour sat in his office, his hands together. He leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtfully out his office window. The Minister for Magic was not a fool, like the one before him. Though misleading his actions may be about the war against Voldemort, his intentions were in the right place.
The Minister knew of the danger he was in. Again, he was no fool. At least, he believed himself not to be. His experiences as an Auror had prepared him for this moment. Though he knew what little chance he had of surviving any attacks on him by the Death Eaters, he was a man of optimism, no matter how bleak his situation may seem.
He stood up and regarded the workers below him, milling around, some looking fearfully behind them. Eying them carefully, he wondered how many of them sought after the end of his life. The thought frightened him slightly, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and regained his composed stature. He returned to his desk and scanned over the pile of papers on his desk. One caught his eye—the will of Albus Dumbledore.
Only a few days earlier, he had spoken to the 'Golden Trio', and gave them the items that Dumbledore had left to them, excluding the Sword of Gryffindor. He felt a twinge of annoyance towards the Potter boy, who had yelled at him for not taking more action. No matter how important many deemed him, he was just a boy, and even in these times, the Minister for Magic was higher in rank than 'The Boy Who Lived'.
A knock on his door disturbed his thoughts, and he hastily straightened his tie, standing up. "Come in," he said.
Pius Thickneese walked in. The man was a tall, wiry man, with long, black graying hair. He greeted Rufus with a smile. "Minister," said Pius, bowing slightly. Rufus returned the greeting, and raised an eyebrow at him.
He asked, "What do you require of me, Thickneese?"
Pius clasped his hands together, walking to Rufus' office window, and stared out into the Atrium. Not looking at the Minister for Magic, he spoke in a voice so quiet, Scrimgeour barely heard him. "You know your life is in grave danger, Minister?" the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement asked.
Rufus exchanged a grim smile with the thin man. "I happen to believe that everyone's life is in danger, Pius." He chuckled, barely realizing that the other man had taken his wand out of his robe pocket.
Thickneese turned, smiling slightly. "An interesting thought," he said, his eyes meeting Scrimgeour's.
"Though now, at this moment, you have nothing to fear," Pius remarked, raising his wand, "but me."
Scrimgeour barely had time to react, as an Imperiused Thickneese shot a Killing Curse at the Minister, instantly ending his life. He fell to the ground with a thud, and his fierce yellowish eyes lacked life, his mouth opened in a slight 'O' of surprise.
Thickneese kneeled, checking for a pulse. Yaxley entered the office, sneering at the still form of the ex-Minister for Magic. "Well done, Thickneese."
The two departed the office, leaving the dead body of Rufus Scrimgeour in the middle of the room. Minutes later, Kingsley Shacklebolt knocked at the door repeatedly, waiting for an answer that would never come. Suspicious, he took his wand out of his pocket and cautiously entered the room.
With a start, he acknowledged the corpse of Scrimgeour. His heart hardened at the realization that Voldemort's forces had infiltrated the Ministry.
Casting a Patronus, he said, "The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.", and sent it to the wedding taking place at the Weasley's.
"These are dark times, there is no denying. Our world has, perhaps, faced no greater threat than it does today. But I say this to our citizenry: we, ever your servants, will continue to defend your liberty and repel the forces that seek to take it from you! Your Ministry… remains… strong!"
